All Write, Already!

There was something pure about the symbolism of the rose. While many considered the rose a token for courtship, or a symbol of beauty, grace, and elegance - best suited to delivery in a medium of flattery. Certainly the Order's contemporaries used symbols which were themselves layers upon layers of symbols intricately ordinated in such dizzying patterns and suggestions as to allow members to meditate upon the symbol itself - writing dissertations and expositions on the secrets they'd find therein - which was convenient as many of those same orders had little else to provide but a false sense of superiority.

The matriarchial structure of the Order, largely a matter of convenience and logistical sensibility as the Patriarch of the realm was otherwise busy handling other organizations, nonetheless further heaped up evidence to the outsider that the symbol of the rose was merely a cosmetic nicety - a small-minded choice made by a small minded girl. It was only the centuries of history between such outsiders and the woman who had established the order that allowed such an injustice to her actual ability as a stateswoman, as a mage, and as a leader.

The symbol itself certainly touched upon the raw elegance of the flower, it's robust beauty, and it's proportioned, almost poetic shape. (Certainly the idealized stereotype of a Rose Mage had these traits as well, which required most of the public to ignore that there were male members of the Order as well.) Without these the order could've been called the 'Order of the Red Flower,' which didn't quite so well roll off of the tongue. The symbol itself included several other distinct aspects of it's token specimen, however, that were often ignored. The bloom itself was most certainly the centrepiece, even if the bloom itself were not centrally located. The simplicity of the five-petal shape held a certain bit of arcane symbolism in it, though this was largely accidental - more the design's clean lines and spartan symmetry were meant to remind the initiate that the simplest construction is responsible for the boldest and most revered of designs. The internally idealized Rose was a person of plain language, straightforward manner, and simple expression of self.

The stem of the order's Rose, rather than twining and twisting as many rose-based symbols were wont to do, was only slightly curving in it's path from the bloom in the top left of the field, to the bottom right of the field where it presumeably continued. The original artist found a way, mysterious as the order itself, to cut the stem off at the edge of the field without suggesting that the stem actually ended - another important part of the symbol. Even the awesome power and majesty of the rose, was supported by the thorny, basic root from which it sprang. Humility was not a popular trait in magi of the time, nor of the current time for that matter. This characteristic was one of the most distinguishing parts of the Order itself.

The thorns, often emphasized by other rose symbols were not stressed in the Order's version, though they were certainly present. It didn't take long for anyone who'd heard stories of the awesome destructive power for which the Order was famous to figure out what a thorn would likely mean - what they didn't expect was the defensive message within the symbol. Sure, a Rose Mage of any repectable rank could incinerate a few dozen foes in the span of time it took a conventional soldier to recieve and process the order to charge, but there was always stories of magi with such power running out of moral drive to not use such power. The only reason such tales persisted so often, and were re-told time and again was because such persons did exist, on a daily basis. The short-range, passive nature of the thorn reminded initiates to keep their tempers reigned in close to their stems - injuring only those stupid enough to carelessly impale themselves.

The stem itself was leafless, but abundant folliage made up the background of the field itself, carefully textured here and there whenever the symbol was fully represented. The background itself did not appear on many of the simpler versions of the symbol such as were used to sign and seal letters and such - but on this banner at the back of the hall it was brilliantly brought to a subtle sort of life in dark lines and rich forest greens. This was also more reminder that the rose was but the most prominent part of the plant-whole, and that the distinguishing characteristic of the mage - his ability to bend reality pretty much whenever he felt like it - was only healthy so long as the rest of the person was also similarly healthy. A blighted leaf blighted the whole plant. This, of course, meant that the Order frowned upon the customary forms of discipline such as denial of self that were popular in the more traditional Torban orders - but they weren't exactly as lax as the Elven Guilds either. Rose Magi were expected to eat well, exercise often, and live in society as normal persons did - and those who failed to maintain their health were dismissed from their arcane studies until they were deemed balanced and healthy enough to resume. This created a longer delay in Rose Magi achieving rank, compared to the Collegium, Guilds, or other Orders but the focus, for the Rose, was the self and the art as a tool, rather than the art, and the self as a tool.

Not depicted, but equally important, was how pervasive roses really were. And in truth, the occupation had demonstrated - here in this room most of all - that this was true of the Order. Roses could be found in all kinds of climates, in all kinds of soils, and in all manner of colors and patterns - each adapted to its unique home. Even the destruction of the once-iconic Evardeen had not done away with the Order.

There would still be a hope to liberate the homeland after all.